


Far Flew the Boast of Her

by sharivan



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-28
Updated: 2015-09-28
Packaged: 2018-04-23 18:49:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4887952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharivan/pseuds/sharivan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She never <i>regretted</i> the lack of winged predators until the dragon came. You knew where you were, if you and what you fought both stayed on the ground like proper beasts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Far Flew the Boast of Her

The landscape of Skyrim had always been dominated by terrestrial attackers. Oh, the occasional creature waiting in the water to bite the unsuspecting but even that was rare in the icy waters off the coast. Shibb had heard the occasional story of aerial attackers in other, far-off places, things that would fly at your head and attack from above, but she'd never encountered anything of the sort as she wandered across Skyrim, first with her family and later alone.

She never  _regretted_ the lack of winged predators until the dragon came. You knew where you were, if you and what you fought both stayed on the ground like proper beasts. You could try to get behind each other or duck out of the way. To expect that, learn to handle it, and then face a flying giant that breathed fire and refused to stay in one fucking place was deeply disappointing. If Shibb had realized this was a possibility ahead of time she might have tried harder to be a decent archer. As it was her most reliable approach to problems - charging them with a two-handed sword - was useless with the beast in the air, and she had no chance of getting an arrow through its hide while it circled and dove like a creature entirely too aware of its attackers' weaknesses.

The guards of Whiterun included some much better marksmen than Shibb, so they managed to avoid burning to death. When the enraged dragon finally landed Shibb and the rest charged it with sword and axe, and made quick work of it.

* * *

Ever afterwards Shibb remembered that she didn't fight the dragon alone. Alone, she would have stood no chance, would have quickly joined the dragon's early victims. She landed a few blows and stood nearby when the beast's flesh disappeared as though it had been a ghost or a nightmare - though the bones remained, unlike such spirits. Shibb was one of many who fought the dragon, but she was the only one enveloped by light as its tissue disappeared, the only one those present called Dragonborn.

Shibb had grown up in Skyrim and her life as a wandering sword for hire was one many Nords aspired to, though never because it was hers. Shibb considered herself a daughter of Skyrim but their legends were not hers; the lost heroes whose stories she knew best did not kill dragons or steal their spirits or find they could scream with the same strength the dragons did. Yet Shibb had somehow done all those things, even if she needed earnest Nords to point some of them out to her.

She found it was a fine thing to be Dragonborn. In truth Shibb agreed with Irileth that the skill to take down such a dangerous creature was praiseworthy enough. But it was Shibb and not those who fought with her who became Thane of Whiterun after the battle. On the street she was addressed with new respect and far less casual suspicion. If stories of long-ago Nord warriors were what it took to cause such a change in Shibb's life, then Dragonborn she would be sure to stay.

* * *

 Still, Shibb did not hurry to climb to High Hrothgar. Before beginning a dangerous journey with an uncertain reception at its end, she intended to prepare. And to take advantage of her new status before it could be rescinded.

The next time Shibb left Whiterun it was with Lydia at her side. They fought well together. Shibb preferred to throw herself at the enemy regardless of whether she trusted the person at her back. Six feet of muscle and sharp steel made her more than capable of looking after herself. Lydia though was entirely trustworthy, their honor and glory all tied up together. She would shoot from a distance when it was wise and close in beside Shibb when it wasn't. Those times their swords struck the same enemy, it felt like home.

Soon afterwards they shared a home in the more traditional sense, a small solid house just beside War Maiden's. Since Shibb had paid for it almost entirely with money from selling weapons and armor of her dead to the proprietors, this was as appropriate as it was convenient.

The house stood mostly empty until Shibb and Lydia collected enough from the wilds and the fallen to buy furnishings. Even empty of everything but crates and cobwebs it was  _hers_ , the permanence foreign but reassuring. This was what it meant, to save a city from a dragon: respect and a sister-in-arms and a house that she owned. Shibb was not naive enough to think it would remain hers no matter what, but it was certainly a tempting delusion.

While wandering the countryside killing wolves and bandits suited both Lydia and Shibb well enough, in time Shibb took a stranger up on his suggestion to speak with the Companions. They were impressed, the ones who mattered, by her reticence and skill with a sword. In exchange for some simple errands they offered everything Shibb had ever wanted. There were a dozen warriors in that hall who trained and squabbled together, strong individually and unstoppable as a group. When the Companions committed to something there was no doubt it would be done.

She was delighted when Farkas invited her to join him, to prove herself. It was the first time Shibb and Lydia parted; she exchanged Lydia's reliable presence at her back to fight alongside a man who shared her wholehearted approach to battle, two giants rushing headlong at their enemies, relying on size and momentum as much as finesse. Together they were dangerous indeed. But only Farkas could turn into a wolf. Limited to her own body and its comparatively fragile claws and teeth, Shibb was deeply envious of his ability to tear apart six enemies at once. Still. She did well for herself in the only shape she had ever known.

* * *

 

Afterwards, when they returned to the Hall of the Companions, its fire pit and unnecessary stairs now as familiar as any place Shibb had ever called home, the Companions gathered to welcome her among them. When Farkas called her shield-sister she showed her teeth in a giddy, feral grin. None of the blunt-toothed Nords startled at the sight, but then some of them could claim fangs sharper than her own when they wished. 

She swore to put her sword in service to the Companions and they made good on the final vow almost immediately, trading stories and drinking late into the night. Shibb didn't make it to her own home or even down to the dormitories that night, but curled up near the fire with Farkas and Aela in a comforting pile of warmth and safety.

The next day Shibb drank Aela's blood and the Companions became her family in body as well as spirit. Lydia was wonderfully unfazed, no more concerned by a sister-in-arms who snarled and clawed at enemies than she had been by one who knocked them back with a word.

With Lydia at her side and her status as a full Companion an amulet no one could take away, Shibb climbed to High Hrothgar. On the way she killed an ice troll, her new body more than a match for it. 

 


End file.
